AFTER THE "FALL"

I'LL ADMIT IT. The first words out of my mouth were not, "Help! I've fallen and I can't get up!" They were a rapid fire of the same mild expletive, repeated thrice; the same word I have heard uttered many times by my maternal grandmother. (As if that makes it acceptable.)

I quickly looked around to see if anyone had seen the wipe out or were holding the ears of their young to protect them from this wild old man yelling obscenities into the cold, wet night. Actually I didn't yell them. I couldn't even breath. The impact had knocked the air from my lungs. Fortunately there was no one around.

Quickly I gathered myself, found a way to stand up thinking: NO ONE SHALL KNOW OF THIS!

You see I'm sort of senior-adultish. Once a senior "has a fall", the assumption is that they will fall all the time. I can remember a few times being at the ER with my parents in their 90s. Along with the typical hospital bracelet with the bar code on it that they scan everytime they hand you a Kleenex or take your temperature, they would get a red bracelet that said "FALL RISK".

So concerned about being labeled a FALLER am I, that I don't want to even call it a fall. I can just imagine the others on the playground at recess yelling, "Fuller the Faller!"--sort of like the abuse Winnie-the-Poo must of felt just because of that one time.

Here's how it went down. We went to a basketball game to watch our oldest Grand-Girl lead cheers, which she does wonderfully. When we went in the gym the weather was nice. I was wearing shorts, a Tulsa Hurricane sweatshirt, Birkenstocks and boxers. As we were leaving a cold front had come in bringing icy temps and sheets of rain. My Amazing-Missus suggested I might go get the vehicle and pick she and the younger Grand-Girls up out front. So, as if I was twenty-something instead of seventy-something, I went racing across the dark, dark parking lot, hood up, glasses covered in rain. When WHAM. I tripped on an unseen parking curb that I swear had been installed since we entered the gym an a few hours earlier.

Apparently on the first bounce I hit my left knee and right rib cage. I think the best picture I can give is of the way we used to dive head first on a Slip N Slide when we were kids. I limped to the car and quickly checked that there was no blood and that all my joints were in place and working. Good! Other than being soaking wet, covered in parking lot soot and not being able to breath, there's no way My Amazing-Missus would ever know what had happened. My first senior Fall would be my own secret. Somehow though she caught on. Maybe the fact that I would moan with each inhale of air gave it away.

I came clean and finally decided to go to the ER to have things checked out. A few hours later I left with my bar code scanned for a bunch of x-rays and a single pill that would help me rest, which I had to take with three witnesses watching.

Thankfully, I escaped without a FALL RISK bracelet, which I'm taking as the official word that I am not one--yet.

It's been a few days now. I've faithfully iced the knee and ribs and done my deep breathing exercises although inhaling is still like a kick in the ribs.

The good news is that I can still be counted on to walk on my own, to go get the car on cold, wintry nights and trusted to carry the eggs from the store to the car. Just give me a few days for these old ribs to heal.

I have to say, I'm rather proud of myself that I took the Big Wipe Out (which is my name for the incident), bounced hard, learned not to run in dark, wet parking lots, and I'm still standing and limping just a little.